


Take Me Away

by summersandhurricanes



Category: Original Work
Genre: Original Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-02 01:30:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15786183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summersandhurricanes/pseuds/summersandhurricanes
Summary: A love story about misery?





	Take Me Away

Take me away.

Under your gaze, my eyes are shut. I just need you. Your comfort. Your control. The way you stop me from thinking.

My ears taste your tongue sliding up from my neck to my lobe. The lasting smell of your breath ringing through my ear, but I hear no words. Just breaths connecting me to the calming pulse of your heart.

Your right arm wrapped under my chest, hand cupped, one finger mischievously wriggling upwards.

Left hand creeping around the corner of my waist, damp fingers tickling my skin, slithering... s-slithering into a garden coiling around a rosebud. Perched and eager, I hear your extremities begging, "Let me in."

Yes.

I surrender.

I feel your smile widen as you nuzzle my hair away.

SSHsHShivers down my spine, the smiles bites down on my ear in confirmation.

Euphoria.

Your right hand pounding. Pounding. Faster. Skipping. Rhythmic to my breaths I'm trying hide. Breath is all I feel with your head nestled on my shoulder. Lips teasing my skin, but never making contact.

Shaking. Squirming. My leg kicks up.

A kiss on the neck.

_You're_ here.

You're in control. I can keep my eyes closed.

_You're_ here.

My hand reaches to stop. Your right hand pulls it away, interlocking with my fingers. Grasping tightly. Pinning down.

Chest free, my back arcs.

I'm holding on. Swallowingbreathesthrough my teeth. Icant--

I'm buckling.Trembling.

_Youre_ hereIcant...

I couldn't any longer. I peaked. I opened my eyes. A heavy exhale followed. I needed your face. To see it with my own eyes. To press your lips to mine. To restore my senses.

I saw the familiar sight of my blank, white painted ceiling. I laid face-up on my mattress wrapped in my comforter. The only thing accompanying me is the pillow my head laid on. I sighed dejectedly and began unraveling myself from the covers.

I sat at the foot of my bad, feet touching the carpet beneath me. I stared at the closed door, eyes wide open, and mulled over my dream. It's a recurring one with variations. Sometimes, it's just texting. Sometimes, it's just a date out at a movie theater. Sometimes, it's tag-team wrestling against some dastardly, dirty heels. Silly, I know. But once it's over, the reality is the same. You're not here.

I don't know where to begin with you. You are sort of... amorphous. I have no clue what you look like, actually. I've tried a lot of different faces, looks, hairstyles, all that. Nothing seems to stick and you never stay the same. It's fine, I guess. I have no real attachment to what you look like anyway. It doesn't matter. You're not here.

Rising to my feet, I open the door and make my way to the bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror as I push away the wild mess of hair around my face. I start to turn to the side when I notice a strand of auburn hair hanging off the side of the sink. I always think I've cleaned up all the loose ends, but I somehow find one to remind me of an old time. Another short lived time. Maybe a week where you had a face, a week where I didn't wake up alone. A week where you weren't torturing me, but soothing me.

Yet, within a week, that face was gone.

I looked back to the mirror again, still turned to the side. I frown. Maybe I'm too fat. I'm always told I look fine, but I don't feel it. I'm not really cute. I don't think I am, anyways. If I were, this would be easier. Right? I'd be wanted. I wouldn't be alone.

I can't look at myself. I need coffee.

I head to the kitchen and pull a mug from the cabinet as I start a fresh brew. I pour some Jameson into the mug before I let it sit under the machine to drip. I walk over to the refrigerator littered with reminders, self-love notes, and wedding invitations. Happy faces, people together, obnoxious photo shoots... bitterness. These are all my friends. I shouldn't feel this way... they haven't done anything to me or done me wrong. But it hurts looking. It makes me think of all my failures. All the times I couldn't keep anyone around. Why I don't have what they have... or if I can ever get that myself.

A note always stands out from a former face. Raven black hair, green eyes... and just a letter to always remind me.

> _You're fantastic. You're so passionate and caring. Thank you for being there for me and spending this day with me. <3_

It was after our time was over. It was nothing I did. I didn't want it to end. You did and I accepted it. It hurt for a day, but I stayed in touch. You were kind too, you just... weren't ready. I still stayed to help because I cared. Maybe I was hopeful... and got my hopes up. But either way, I wanted you to be happy. I wanted to be there. I wanted to feel the way you made me feel. And you were. I helped you back to your feet. Someone else came along. And then, I was in the background. I wasn't used... you didn't do anything wrong... but it still hurts. This little reminder that made me happy to know you appreciated--no, appreciate me instead just keeps me in thought about you. About what shou--

\--what could have been.

Why couldn't it be me? I'm not doing anything wrong. It's not my fault. So, why is it not happening?

I'm always told don't worry. It'll work out. Just don't overthink. It'll be fine. It'll happen. It doesn't. It all just rings shallow. So, there has to be something wrong with me, right? 

The bitterness just continues to boil over. I can hear it spilling over.

I snap out of my thoughts and turn to an overflowing mug spilling out to the floor. I rush over to place the pot under the spout and yank the mug away. I lay paper towels all over the place and start soaking up the mess.

I let out an unintelligible groan. This day's off to a wonderful start and I haven't even gotten to work yet. I grab the mug and get the Irish cream out of the fridge and pour it in. I get to my dining room table and sit down, taking an immediate sip.

I look through my text message on my phone. Nothing new. Some old friend conversations. Some interchangeable faces who I asked if they wanted to go out. No responses.

I exhale and stare at the ceiling.

I close my eyes.

You'll come back if I do.

Because you know I love your company.

You'll embrace me like you always do.

It'll always hurt when I wake up, but in that time, it'll be fine.

Take me away.

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know what to put here. it's just a short story. a life story i suppose. but like. not a real one.
> 
> this is just fiction. right? 
> 
> i came here to write fan fiction. but instead I wrote this first. i feel like i needed to get this one out. i'm working through a lot of emotions. feelings. struggles. insert cliche words and so on. writing helps. i guess. so i wrote this.
> 
> it's not that i won't create fan fiction. i want to. i have so many ideas. maybe too many. 
> 
> i just. needed this first. 
> 
> i needed to laugh at myself. i needed to be angry. i needed to feel. i needed to cry. 
> 
> i really needed to cry. i need to get this out. i need to see my frustrations. i don't know if this helps me. i don't know if i'll feel better. but it's out there. even if it's just out into a void. maybe i make this a thing. actually create a character. 
> 
> maybe this is stupid. and corny. i tried to be too artsy. i think. i don't know. 
> 
> yeah.
> 
> thank you for reading. however you may feel. sincerely. thank you. 
> 
> thank you earl. thank you kitty. thank you christian. thank you yuzu. thank you mei.


End file.
